


since the day i saw you i have been waiting for you

by sultrygoblin



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, I Love You, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24417442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrygoblin/pseuds/sultrygoblin
Summary: one shot - scott hasn’t ever been great at talking but if he wants this to work with you, he’s going to have to. one way or another
Relationships: Scott Lang/Reader, Scott Lang/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	since the day i saw you i have been waiting for you

**Author's Note:**

> so! this is in light of needing paul rudd fic. it’s also my first one using second person instead of third person. so pleeeeaaaaasssseeee tell me what you think. obviously i have some already started stories in the works in 3rd person but this is the beginning of the switch

There's too much bed and it's much too late. Those are your first thoughts. This means Scott can't sleep and once again hasn't woken you up, no matter how many times you asked him too. It seemed to be something he was incapable of doing not realizing that you would still wake up but waking up this way was much more frustrating. You'd rather it be him, his voice and his face. Rather he just told you what's wrong. Even though you know what's wrong. It's impossible not to. He misses it but he doesn't. Placed between two impossible decisions and while you reaped the benefits of him being forced into a certain corner, you would have had no problem if it had gone the other way. It's something he still doesn't understand, tonight will be another night you try to explain it to him. Throwing off the blankets in a huff you climbed out of bed and made your way out the cracked bedroom door. Waking up like this always lead to frustration, he's trying to do good by you best he knows. He's just having trouble listening to you telling him how to do it.

“I didn't mean to wake you,” he's lowering the television's volume almost on instinct.

It takes everything in you not to growl, “I'm always gonna wake up,” it's time for a different approach, “You could sit here in the dark and I'm still gonna wake up, Scott,” easing yourself beside him on the couch, taking the remote from his hands and flipping the tv off, “I know, alright? How someone acts when the dreams get to be too much isn't a new thing for me,” taking gripping his hand tight, “Or when they miss the people who are important to them,” finally daring to meet those green eyes that still to this day took your breath away, “I know the people I love, Scott, and whether you like it or not you are one of those people,” it's the closest you'll get right now, still battling the demon you're not ready to talk about.

“You think of all that from the door to the couch?” he asked, lacing his fingers with yours as you rolled your eyes, “Just now? No wonder Cassie says you tell the best bedtime stories.”

“No, you just suck at making up stories,” you laughed, nudging his shoulder with yours, “It's normal, you know? All this. What you're feeling, the dreams, all of it. Stuff like that messes with your head. Not to mention being stuck in here day after day.”

“Get out of my head!” his hand grips yours tighter, “I guess not bothering you with it didn't really work out,” you shook your head and he laughed, “I really should just listen to you.”

“I'm often right about these kinds of things,” you agreed, dropping your head on his shoulder, “I get why you don't want to. This life or that life, I'd still be here. I mean it when I say that.”

“Why are you so great?” you scoffed and rolled your eyes at him, “I'm being serious. Come here,” dropping your hand to pull you into his lap, knee pressed into the couch on either side of his hips, “You've always been this great. It's probably good I didn't realize it then,” you push his chest and he catches your hand, “You've always been Team Scott.”

“No team I'd rather be on,” running your other hand through his hair, “Don't tell Cassie that. As far as she knows I am a devout follower of the order of Rainbow Dash.”

He dropped your other hand on his shoulder, arms around your waist to pull you closer, “Well, that explains  _ that _ Amazon package,” dipping his hands under your shirt, his always warm hands pressing against you, “You have a problem, by the way.”

You stuck your tongue out at him as you drug your hand to hold the curve of his neck. His grip on you tightened, looking at you like you with that mischievous smirk that you've learned to love and loathe in equal measure. It's never quite clear which direction it's going to go until you're already there.

“I'm sure we've talked about the tongue,” your only response was a look of faux confusion, “I'm positive we talked about the tongue,” you slurped the appendage into your mouth melodramatically as you shook your head, “Let's talk about the tongue then shall we.”

You smiled when his lips finally met yours, easing the last of the tension from the room. It was a power of Scott's you'd discovered early on. The first time you yelled at him and his response was to take you in his arms and kiss you in a way far too reminiscent of Gone With The Wind for the romantic part of your mind to process anything else for far too long. You'd never been with anyone who could melt away any emotion with just a kiss but there was something about how sweet and true each of his were that it was impossible to be anything but happy. His thumbs stroked your skin tenderly, tracing your lips with the same softness before dipping between them. Your fingers tighten in his hair when you finally fall headfirst into the kiss. Tongues tangling, breaths become harsher and harsher. You pull away, dipping to press messy kisses to the other side of his neck.

“If you keep kissing me like that I'll be forced to retaliate,” he panted, you gripped the back of the couch, moving your attention to the other side, “You're right, not my best threat,” which ended with him tugging the tiny tank top off your body with relative ease and minimal separation, “Bedroom.”

“That's all on you, buddy,” moving your lips down to his collar bone.

Something between a groan and a laugh tumbled from his lips, “Buddy? That's what you're going with here,” large, calloused hands begin to explore your newly exposed skin with that firm but soft touch that never failed to make you shiver.

Goosebumps followed in its wake, “Look, if you're not gonna sexy carry me to the bedroom, Scott, what're we even doing here?” your own hands curling around the bottom of his shirt and begin to drag it upwards.

“I've spoiled you, that's clearly what's happening here,” keeping his grip tight as he climbed to his feet, you yelped, dropping his shirt as you clung to him, “One day I'll be able to leave and when I have access to a McDonald's it will be dad bod time.”

“Then I better take advantage, shouldn't I?” sinking your teeth lightly into the juncture of his neck, it was always a game-winner and you tried not to abuse it but there was only so long you could put up with the tease of a man.

He didn't so much speak as exhale a long, breathy groan that had a hint of  _ oh _ in the background and it was pretty clear at that point you'd won. Wasting no time he sped towards the stairs and began to climb up them, trying not to let his legs shake too much as you matched the bite on the other side. Making sure to lave equal attention to the entire area, it had taken you about 5 seconds into your first heavy make-out session to figure out this particular weak spot. Your back hit the wall mid-ascent. Head lolling back with a lazy smile you're finally able to look at him since you began your assault. It's that familiar hazy look, the one that says he's legitimately toying with just figuring out a way to make it work on the stairs but there's something else there now. Something that tugs on that deep, primal need to be loved. He won't say it, either because he can't or because you can't hear it yet, not in so many words. It joins your tiny declaration as another baby step closer to those three ridiculously small and insanely important words.

“I love you,” or not, you know that your face must look terrified because he's smiling, but his wide eyes make it very clear he hadn't  _ meant _ to say them and he's suddenly closed in around you, “It would be so great if you're making that face just by coincidence.,” you shook your head slowly, trying to loosen your face, realizing he had given into the natural belief you were looking for an instinct, “Okay. See, what I meant was-”

“You meant that you love me,” nodding slowly and rolling the words around in your mouth, he eased you onto your feet as he took a step back, “You said-” stopping yourself as you pushed his chest lightly, “What the hell, man?”

“In my defense, I had no idea I was saying it,” watching you climb the rest of the stairs and fists planted on your hips when you turned to look at him, “I don't regret saying it. You don't have to say it back, I mean, I don't even think I want you to say it back. But I think I had to say it,” pushing the balls of his hands against his eyes, “Oh I forgot how confusing adult relationships are,” followed by pressing his hands into his face and biting down a guttural yell that got the point across.

“I mean if you're not expecting me to say it back...” pushing at your bottoms and underwear until they piled at your feet and kicking them to the side, you pointed to the bedroom, “I'll be in there when you've finished  _ whatever  _ this is,” gesturing at him before padding off to the bedroom.

You've managed to remake the bed and are seriously considering pulling on a robe when he finally walks into the room, with the look of a kid trying to ask his crush to the prom. You rolled your eyes, dropping on the edge of the bed hard as you gestured widely towards yourself with both hands. He bolts, not just pushing you backward but towards the center of the bed, lips locked with yours. A content sigh falls between your lips, hands running along his spine, feeling each muscle move as his hands began their adventure. One keeping him up as he parted your lips and swallowed every sound you even considered making, every bob of your throat seems to push him deeper and deeper into the embrace. It distracts you from his wandering hand, the one that's forgone his usual teasing of your breasts. The kind where he'd make you quiver and by the time he dipped between your legs you weren't far off. He's impatient,  _ needy _ , the thought only has a second to occur to you before he's slipping his fingers between your folds and sliding two fingers inside you.

You gasp, his name lost against the way he kisses you, enough room to breath but nothing else. Scott has never completely surrounded you before, you're a vessel that all his love, need, and want flows into and he's got too much of it now. It'd been consuming him and now he's let it out, he can't go back. You don't want him too. For the first time, it feels alright to be a bystander in your relationship. This is him, showing you what he means and swallowing up what you can't say yet. You both know you love him as much, if not more than, he loves you. You just don't understand it yet is all, it's why he never expects you to say it back, it's why he'll satiate his need to hear those words in your body. His fingers curl against that special spot, his thumb rubbing your clit in whatever clumsy movement he can manage in his state.

“Jesus, Scott,” you manage to pant, he'd only pulled back ever so slightly when you breath had become desperate pants, “God...”

It's a small crest, it doesn't come with screams and shouts like you're so used to. It's quiet moans, feeling him not just around you but inside you completely and it sends you floating gently over that sudden cliff. Your hips roll, doing his work for him as you chased the aftershocks of your orgasm. He watches you the entire time, losing himself in his own new moment between the two of you. You grab at his loose pajama pants with your toes, yanking them down best you can as he continues his movements against you. It's quick, a sudden shot straight up and then down. Distracting you from him clumsily kicking off the useless fabric but not the sudden loss of him. You whine, an instinctual noise you don't remember ever sounding so desperate before.

His hips poise and in what feels like seconds his buried to the hilt in you, you cling tight him, feeling every part of your body quake. You had no control over your body it seemed and he simply held you close. Tight as he leaned back till you were over him, his haunches pressed to his calves. It's different, rubbing against nerve endings you never even knew you had. It's all happening so fast, already you feel overstimulated and heady with passion. He smiles, a soft thing when you're hands meet his shoulders to steady yourself and you manage to hold his gaze. Which is a feat, all you want to do is fall into the sensations but he needs this. Some part of you is still here and is feeling everything he's feeling. All you can manage is a grind, moving your hips against his in a way that felt primal. His head falls forward against your shoulder, little, indiscernible gasps a mantra. You want to speak, to moan, to breathe but it all feels held inside you. Like there's a pit, swallowing everything up and any minute now it would explode.

It's a sudden feeling; the desperation. Both of you clinging to each other, able to do little else than writhe against each other. The room is heavy with pants, it's so close for both of you. It builds and builds, every brush of lips against skin, fingers along spines, until it's impossible to take any more. It feels like there isn't enough air in the room and there never will be again. Clinging to him as your body shakes from the inside and out, pressing harder and harder against him as your hips roll.

“Scott, Scott,” it's your own mantra now, running your hands through his hair, hoping it makes sense.

He holds you tighter, his hips moving for the first time, “I know, I got you.”

It feels as if you've physically exploded. Your world goes black, whether your eyes or closed or you've blacked out, you don't know because either feel like they make sense. Every single nerve is pounding with electricity as your entire body locks up. It's new, it's terrifying and you never want it to stop. All of that making love, being at one  _ bullshit  _ feels incredibly real suddenly. Maybe it's what you said or what you meant or what he said. Maybe it's just the sex but when your vision finally focuses and his eyes seem to mirror your own as you feel him stiffen and twitch inside you, those three little words suddenly don't feel like such a big deal. They pour from your mouth before you can stop them or maybe you simply hadn't wanted to. Then he's saying it and everything finally hits what it was all building to. A perfect moment, feeling yourself completely come undone before falling harshly back to Earth. Nails digging into him, feeling him explode inside you sending a sudden feeling of warmth through your insides and caressed far too sensitive nerves.

You fall backward on the bed, panting, shuddering, each corded muscle seeming to seizure individually. He doesn't move, whether he can't or he doesn't want to, it's not clear but he doesn't seem to be doing any better. Not until he smiles and falls forward, flinging an arm across your waist as his entire body becomes what can only be described as dead weight.

“The hell was that?” you panted, managing to roll your head to look at him.

He grinned that stupid, dopey one he got after every time, “You want me to say it?”

“On second thought...” you hummed, letting your eyes flutter closed, “ _ This  _ is why you wake me up, just by the way.”

“Well, you never told me  _ that  _ part,” you rolled your eyes, thumping you hand against his back and leaving it there, “So, this gonna be one of those things where you can only say it while just about to have an orgasm?”

“He asked, like it was a bad thing,” you laughed with a shrug, “I don't know, I now I meant it but I know I couldn't say it now if you asked me to.”

“Good thing I'm not,” he shot back, before groaning and managing to roll on his back, “I can't be this out of shape.”

“Oh it's just too easy now,” you groaned, shaking your head, “Come on, if we both work together we can be up there and under the covers in two hours. Go, man, go!”

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is always great. kudos too. you can always make a request too. or visit me on Tumblr.


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